Sequences
by Auchen
Summary: A collection of oneshots written for prompts submitted on tumblr. Humorous to serious to everything in between.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Written for this prompt:

dwcourtasan said: Just tossing you a prompt idea! I have headcanon that says Edward has been taking tap classes for years and will dance around the lab when its a really slow day. Someone tracks the sound and finds him mid solo, would love something fluffy and fun. Otherwise have fun!

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><p>Edward's childhood had been filled with eclectic activities. He bounced from one interest to another has his mind volleyed to new fascinations. For a while one of those interests had been tap dancing. When he brought up the idea to his parents they sighed, and his father rolled his eyes, but relented.<p>

Those lessons hadn't lasted very long—maybe a year at the most, but he still recalled the basics. And the analysis lab was such a good place to brush up on those old skills when the day dragged on and no one else was there. So Edward often found himself slapping his shoes against the scuffed, shining floor of the lab, mapping out the old steps in his mind, biting his lip as he held a plastic bag containing a piece of bloody fabric.

Another time he was sitting down, comparing tire treads from crime scenes, humming an old performance song under his breath, shaking his head and correcting himself when he got the tone wrong.

But today he was comparing soil samples. As he went back and forth from the table with microscope to the table with container of slides, he fell back into a little routine. At the end of it, there was a little slide and twirl, with a flourish of the hands. He was quite proud of the fact that he could still preform that part correctly, and each time the slide and twirl lasted exactly two seconds.

Edward sighed and drummed his hands against the table, and picked up the slide between his gloved fingers. So far none of them had matched the dirt found in the shoe treads at the murder scene. Disappointing and tedious. As he held it between his fingers, he danced his way back to the container, flicking through the clear slides, the little glass in the middle glinting under the florescent lights. Once he found the correct spot he pushed the old slide back in.

He grabbed the next one, and prepared himself to begin his old, childhood routine again. He gripped the slide in his hand—

_One two one two one two_

He smiled at the smacking sound his shoes made in the empty box of the lab.

_And slide and twirl_

Someone walked in just in time to see Edward came to rest at the end of the table holding a microscope, hands in the hair, lens clutched in one hand. They stared at each other. Edward cleared his throat.

"Detective Bullock. What brings you here?" Edward asked, feeling his face beginning to burn.

Bullock put his hands in his pockets, leaning back. "Uh, yeah, I just came to check how the soil analysis was going."

"Ah." Edward popped his lips. "So far there's no similarities, but I'll keep looking."

They were quiet for another moment, and a light overhead buzzed and flickered. Edward glanced up at it.

"Okay, well, you keep doing that. Just let us know if you find anything," Bullock said.

"I will!" Edward said, flashing a smile, waving the slide he held in the air with a laugh.

With that, Bullock left the room, and Edward put the slide beneath the microscope and pressed his eye against the lens, adjusting one of the knobs. The tight embarrassment in his chest began to unravel, and he started to hum.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: **Oswald and Edward are driving away from a simple bank heist when they discover that they might have taken the wrong thing.

**A/N**: Written for the first prompt:

_melmathegreat said: i have prompts for you:] trapped in the bank during a bank robbery (or a robbery gone arwy) AU with partners in crime Ed and Oswald. OR or, the coffeeshop AU where Ed and Kristen have to awkwardly share a table while theyre both working a couple days in a row. maybe one sided attraction on his end? i hope you feel inspired! :D_

In this fic Eddie and Ozzie are independent criminals, not mobsters. Also, Eddie is more Riddler-ish than he is on the show, but is still just a beginner.

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><p>It was almost sad how easy this job had been, Edward thought. All they had to do was steal a safety deposit box from the bank and deliver it to their client. Hacking into the alarms system and disabling it had been stunningly easy. Though it irritated Edward a bit that his partner had been the one to go into the bank and steal the deposit box while Edward typed away furiously on a laptop back in the getaway car.<p>

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Edward had been quite insistent that he would wear a hoodie with a question mark stitched onto it to the bank. Oswald liked things a bit more subtle than that.

Edward glanced over at his aforementioned partner. Oswald currently had his narrowed eyes on the road in this decomposing part of time. Steam curled up from a grate in the gutter, and Oswald swerved to miss a lump in the middle of the road that might have once been an animal.

Oswald glanced at Edward. "You're sure you didn't leave any clues this time?"

He sighed. "I didn't, but I'm telling you, that's what could make these jobs exciting. Anyone can steal something, that's simple thuggery. But leaving clues will confuse and mock the police. No one else is doing anything like that." Edward sat back in his seat, hands curled around the safety deposit box.

"I'll break your nose if you left a clue," Oswald said, eyes back on the road.

Edward's hand leapt to his nose for a moment. He didn't fancy that idea. That was the problem with Oswald sometimes-for all his intelligence and manipulative skills, he favored violence quite often. But Oswald was much more refined that the typical criminal element Edward had to deal with, and besides, if you were on his side the rewards often outweighed the negatives.

"I think we should open it," Oswald suddenly said. He reached one hand for the deposit box.

Edward jerked it away. "I do not think that's the best idea. Our client specifically told us not to, and he's quite an observant person. He could be able to notice our finger prints around the lock—"

Oswald grabbed the box as Edward was babbling. "Whatever is in it is obviously valuable. Our client said it would work as leverage against an enemy of his. If we see what's inside we could tell client we will inform his enemy what's in the box unless he gives us a larger payment than we're getting."

"Hmmm." Edward tapped his fingers on his chin, pressing his lips together. It was logical, if risky. Edward liked money, but that wasn't the main thing he was in it for. It was the game. And the manipulative element to this plan appealed to that part of him.

"All right, I suppose we can look." Edward raised his palms in the air, but Oswald had already pulled over to the curb and was unlocking the box.

The lid came open with a squeal. The light in Oswald's eyes dimmed and his face fell as he looked at the contents.

"What is it? Jewelry? Top secret documents?" Edward leaned over.

Oswald's hand emerged from the depths of the box holding a stack of yellowed envelops bound together by a faded string. A piece of brittle tape fell from the stack, settling on the driver's seat.

"Ah!" Edward smiled and nodded to himself. "Intel. That makes perfect sense."

"Not intel." Oswald's hand shook. "Love letters from World War Two."

That didn't make much sense. How could old love letters be leverage against an enemy? Unless they contained some sort of salacious personal information?

"We grabbed the wrong box," Oswald said, throwing the papers back into the deposit box. A puff of dust floated up.

"Well…how can you be so sure?" Despite the fact that something might have gone completely wrong, Edward couldn't help but be thrilled by the idea of having to pull off another heist. It would be even more challenging than the previous one they just pulled because the bank would be expecting them.

"Because our client dropped a hint that whatever was in the box was not papers. We grabbed the wrong box." Oswald tossed the box back over to Edward, who caught it.

"Or they recently switched boxes?" Edward ventured.

Oswald just pressed his head to the steering wheel and slammed a hand against the dashboard. Edward grinned.


End file.
